Don't be Vague
by llembas
Summary: Peter and Remus contemplate life after Hogwarts.  Remus/Sirius


The sugar quill tasted like pineapple. Peter sucked on the end, letting the sweet flavor coat his tongue. From his position flat on his back in the middle of his bed, he had a perfect view out the dormitory window. It was already dark. The thin sliver of the waxing moon had just come into view.

This was the last time he'd ever wait for James and Sirius to return from detention. After one last prank on the Slytherins went awry, Professor McGonagall led the two of them away. It was most likely the last detention they'd get for the year. Not just for the year, forever. Peter tried to wrap his brain around no more detentions but found it was impossible. Just as it was impossible to imagine a life after Hogwarts.

For not the first time, he wondered if someone had used a Confundus Spell on him because it felt like his brain was going up against a brick wall or a giant chasm whenever he tried to think about life after Hogwarts.

Over the past few months, the rest of them concocted wild fairytales about how many Death Eaters' arses they would kick once they left Hogwarts. Peter joined their conversations, never admitting that the thought of kicking any part of the anatomy of a Death Eater was more nightmare than fairytale to him.

That was his big secret. The one that had been gnawing on him for weeks. He wasn't going to be kicking any Death Eater arse, because he wasn't going to Auror Training. He hadn't told anyone. Telling them would be admitting he was a coward. He knew what their reactions would be, but he didn't understand them. What was so wrong with wanting to stay alive?

In his nervousness, he bit off the end of the sugar quill.

"What'd you go and do that for? Now the quill's useless," Remus said, sitting down cross-legged on his own bed.

"Still tastes good." Peter had grown accustomed to Remus's stealthy entrances over the years, so that he didn't even jump when Remus spoke. He'd never asked, but he'd always assumed it was a side-effect of Remus's lycanthropy. Unfortunately, that couldn't be used as an excuse for all of Remus's quirks. It sure couldn't explain his love for chocolate.

Remus reached a long arm under his bed and pulled out his stash of chocolate frogs. He popped one into his mouth, his cheeks bulging as the frog leapt once, then twice, before Remus bit into it. Peter watched the nightly ritual with amusement, wondering why he'd never noticed before how much pleasure Remus got from letting the frogs jump around in his mouth.

Frogs eaten, Remus picked up the wrappers and delicately pulled out the Wizarding Card. Whatever he saw on the card seemed to satisfy him because he reached back under his bed and pulled out a battered old box that contained nearly seven years worth of trading cards. Most people outgrew the habit after third year, but Remus still kept it up. His excitement at getting a rare card reined tightly in.

Once his box was tucked neatly away, Remus lay back on his bed. Peter waited for the confessions to begin. That's how Peter always thought of the conversations the two of them had shared over the years on the nights that James and Sirius had detention.

It had started when they'd both been lonely first years. Without James and Sirius in the room, the silence of the dormitory had been stifling.

Peter had started it first, broken the silence. It wasn't noticeably brave, not in the way that James and Sirius were. There were no flashes of magic, but there was something undeniably real about the sound of his voice speaking aloud all the things that troubled him.

Back then it had been something small, "I'm afraid of Professor McGonagall." Peter had had the same nervous butterflies then as he did now. And just like back then he thought the problem was too big to overcome but it hadn't been. He'd been all right.

So maybe he was still afraid of McGonagall a little, but it wasn't the life and death event that he imagined it would be. And neither was this. A nagging thought plagued Peter's mind that maybe someday it would be. That's why he was going to avoid the fight, so it wouldn't come down to life and death. So he'd never have to make that kind of decision. If he was still a little scared of McGonagall, how could he even possibly consider being an Auror? It was a ridiculous notion. In fact, it was probably one of the questions on the entrance exam. Does the thought of Professor McGonagall fill you with quivering terror?

Enough.

He'd put it off long enough. No wonderings about McGonagall were going to change his mind. Now was the perfect time to get it out. Have it over and done with.

His mouth was dry. The sugar quill was gone. The taste of pineapple still lingered on his tongue. He took a deep breath. "I'm not joining the Aurors."

Silence. The intake of Remus's breath. "That's all right. Neither am I."

"You have an excuse," Peter said, relief washing over him. Remus didn't hate him. And if he didn't hate him, neither would James and Sirius.

Remus shrugged. "So do you. You don't want to do it. That's enough of an excuse for anyone. Being an Auror isn't for everyone. Dumbledore is the smartest wizard of his time and he isn't an Auror."

Peter hadn't considered that.

"There are many other ways to fight the war, not just on the front lines." Remus spoke mechanically as if he were quoting from a book.

Peter wanted to rise up on his elbows and look at Remus but he didn't. That was one of the unspoken rules of their confession. They never looked at one another. "You wanted to join?"

"Yes. No." Remus sighed. "I don't know. I didn't have the choice so I didn't try to think about it. But. . . I don't think I would've."

"I don't think you would've either," Peter said, more for his own benefit than for Remus's. Whatever, it seemed to satisfy Remus and they lay in companionable silence. It was Remus's turn.

"I still haven't told him."

Peter didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. A few months ago, Peter had bitten his sugar quill in half when Remus told him about his feelings for Sirius. Peter hadn't had much advice to give. After all, Peter was interested in girls. The two were practically different species.

Remus sighed. "I just wish there was some kind of spell I could perform to see if he were even interested in…"

And then it hit Peter. The answer to Remus's question had already been answered, last year in fact, and he hadn't realized it until now. He was so excited that he bounded straight up off the bed, ignoring the confessional protocol. "He is! He is! He is!" Peter squealed, knew he probably looked like a silly git but didn't give a damn.

"Well, then tell me, you overgrown Cornish pixy," Remus said through his laughter.

"The veela! Remember last year when we were all at the Ministry taking the Apparation Exam?"

"Yeah?"

Peter couldn't believe it hadn't dawned on Remus yet, that he was actually going to have to spell it all out for him. "Remember the group of Veela wandering around on the wrong floor? James and I went nutters, but you . . . you and Sirius…"

Remus's eyes widened. His mouth dropped open. For an instant Peter thought Remus might just jump up on the bed and do a little dance himself. Instead the biggest smile Peter had ever seen spread slowly across his face. "Peter, you're bloody brilliant."

Peter lay back on the bed, hoping that Remus wouldn't start talking about what it would be like snogging Sirius. That was really more than he wanted to hear.

"I don't think I can say it," Remus said.

It wasn't like Remus to be afraid of anything except for the fear of losing control while in the presence of the wolf. Maybe love was the same way.

"You're no coward," Peter said, more bitterly than he intended. He was the coward. He knew it. But it was a secret he held deep, so that no one knew. No one ever suspected.

Remus waved off his remark as if it wasn't relevant. "It's not that. How? How can I possible say it without sounding like a bloody idiot or worse, a girl."

Peter thought it over. How should Remus go about it? Sirius had never been one for fancy words. That was more of James's territory. The things James had written for Lily were so treacly sweet they'd nearly killed Peter from the sugar shock. But Sirius was different. He liked things straight to the point.

"Don't be vague. Ask for Sirius's ass," Peter said.

Remus laughed.

Peter glared at him. "You have a better idea?"

"Firewhiskey." Remus padded across the room and alohamoraed the trunk at the foot of James's bed. With a wave of his wand and an, "Accio, Firewhiskey," the bottle landed in his hand.

After taking a drink, he held the bottle out to Peter.

Peter shook his head. The last thing he wanted to do was get drunk enough to start blubbering about Auror Training. When he told James and Sirius about his decision, he would do so clear headed.

Remus, on the other hand, gripped the bottle of Firewhiskey and marched the length of the room exactly five times before he'd stop and take another long drink.

Peter listened to the quiet footsteps as they kept up a rhythmic pace back and forth across the floor. It was soothing and soon Peter was drifting in and out of that blissful state of not quite sleep.

Peter jerked awake with a start. He rubbed his eyes. What time was it? How long had he been asleep? It felt like hours but Peter guessed it hadn't been that long. At the foot of the bed, Remus gripped Peter's bed curtains, struggling to steady himself.

Peter lay very still. In the darkness, he could just make out the shapes of them. Sirius was in the room.

"Where's James?" Remus asked, standing straighter than Peter thought was possible.

Sirius shrugged. "Shagging Lily in the Prefect's bathroom."

"Shagging." Remus spoke the word slowly, letting it roll off his tongue.

"Moony, you're drunk!"

"Am not."

"You may be the world's best lair, but you've never been able to fool me." Sirius grinned. "Besides, I can smell the Firewhiskey on your breath from here."

"What about from here?" Remus took a step forward until he was standing inches away from Sirius.

Sirius leaned forward and sniffed. His face pressed in close to Remus's neck.

"You smell good enough to. . . . drink," Sirius said, his voice so low that Peter barely heard it.

Remus growled low under his breath and pushed Sirius away. He swayed slightly on his feet.

"So you and Wormtail decided to have a party without us?" Sirius pulled the empty bottle from Remus's hand. "What's the occasion?"

"Veela. Long live the Veela!" Remus snatched the bottle back from Sirius and was upset to find it empty. He tossed it onto the bed.

"There were veela, here, at Hogwarts?" Sirius frowned.

"No. At the Ministry. Apparation Exam."

Sirius laughed. "That was months ago."

"I know!" Remus said. "But I just figured it all out tonight. Well, Peter figured it out. He's brilliant. Long live Peter!" Remus started to step towards Peter's bed, but Sirius grabbed him by the arm.

"Now I _know_ you're drunk."

"It's the veela! James and Peter went nutters for them. But _you_ didn't." Remus poked a finger at Sirius's chest. Then poked him again just for the hell of it.

Sirius swatted his hand away. "Who the fuck cares? You didn't seem too enthralled with them either."

"Exactly!" Remus said.

They were standing face to face now. Sirius's eyes widened. He knew. He understood.

Peter wasn't sure he wanted to see this. It was one thing to listen to Remus talk about it, it was quite another to witness it first hand.

Sirius pulled out his wand, pointed it at Remus, and mumbled a Sobering Spell. He caught Remus against him as the spell hit him, and they both fell to their knees.

Sobering Spells were a bitch. Peter hated them. No amount of enchantments could get rid of the instant hangover that hit you once the spell had been performed.

Remus had his head pressed to Sirius's chest, gasping for breath. "Bloody hell, Sirius, what'd you do that for?"

"Because I wanted you sober for this." Sirius crushed his face against Remus.

Peter couldn't see a lot. Nothing more than two dark figures moving together. Fighting. That's what it looked like. Not soft and sweet and delicate, like that Ravenclaw girl under the mistletoe. This was something altogether different. This was more than Peter needed to see.

He reached for his wand. And quietly, oh so quietly, he closed his bed curtains, and put up a Silencing Spell.

Peter lay back on the bed. Now that he had the silence and the privacy, he couldn't sleep. It was too quiet. Stifling. The same way it was that night long ago when he and Remus had first started their confessions. Well, the confessions were over. Remus wouldn't confide in him anymore. He wouldn't need to, he had Sirius. James had Lily. And Peter had. . .the back of bed curtains to stare at.

He wondered if James knew. He might know about Sirius but there was no way he could know about Remus and the two of them and whatever the hell was going on across the room right now. It felt strange to say that. It felt even stranger to know that he knew something that James didn't know. It felt. . . . almost powerful.

Peter liked the feeling.


End file.
